It Could Have Been Her
by Medieval Fan
Summary: Elida Aeducan had been ignoring the thought of the taint for far too long throughout their journey, and has finally come to realize what can happen. A short fic about what her thoughts might be when she comes face to face with the Broodmother.


Disclaimer: I do **not** own Dragon Age**.**

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It could have been her.

_First day, they come and catch everyone._

Elida's party had arrived at the end of Dead Trenches, and stood before the Broodmother.

The monster was a truly grueling and horrid sight to look at. It towered high above the dwarf, plump and pink with many fat breasts. The two arms hanging at her- no. Elida couldn't even address this monster as a _her. _Those two stubby as its side were better off not even being there, because it couldn't even do defend its self with them. It seemed planted into the very ground it sat on and wobbled madly in rage. Tentacles ripped out holes from the bloodied ground, which seemed like its only form of self defense. Elida stared at it in horror. By the Stone...

_Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat._

"Don't just stand there," Oghren called out. "Sodding help us!"

She snapped back to reality and quickly sprang into the battle her companions were already engaged in. Thicker tentacles popped up from the ground behind her, and more blocked the other passages out. There could be no fleeing for this battle. It was either kill this monster, or die trying.

_Third day, the men are gnawed on again._

As she blindly slashed away at the monster, thoughts flooded into her mind. She remembered just months ago when she had been sent to the Deep Roads as punishment for a crime she hadn't committed. A crime she wouldn't dream of committing. Everyone in Orzammar knew the rumors. If you ate the flesh of fallen darkspawn, you could possibly live through the tainted effects and go on living. Nothing came without a price. The dear price here was your sense of mind. Your humanity.

_Fourth day, we wait and fear our fate._

Nothing really happened to a man when he was corrupted and managed to live through the effects, besides losing his humanity. She remembered coming across Hespith no more than an hour ago in the Dead Trenches, and looking upon her dark blotched face. It was sickening. A mutation process. Women could be used for spawning thousands of darkspawn.

Why hadn't she payed mind to this topic before?

_Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn._

One of the massive tentacles swiped at her, knocking her onto her back. The broodmother let out a deafening cry then, and genlocks flooded into the room. On her back, Elida took a moment to study their terrible forms, which was something she had never taken the time to do in all of her months of traveling around Fereldan. Their bodies were short and stocky, just like a dwarf. Was this broodmother the same dwarf Hespith had been murmuring about? Were these its offspring?

_Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams._

She stood back up, just hardly dodging a blow to the head from one of the oncoming genlocks. One of them managed to stab a sword through her side, but she continued to fight, if not slightly slower while doing so. They've been fighting for quite a while now. The battle was almost over.

_Seventh day, she grew as in their mouth they spew._

There was another realization that dawned on her then. She'd been wondering about why there weren't many female Grey Wardens in the order, and now she knew. Darkspawn would drag down all races into the ground. She'd assumed it had been merely for food, but that wasn't the case. Drinking the blood and eating the flesh were the taint, all the same. Elida then decided something. In thirty years, she would _not_ come back down to the Deep Roads. She couldn't.

Maybe she'd kill herself, or something of the like, before the calling ever even hit her. Damn the other Grey Wardens who might think it was wrong of her to go against their traditions.

_Eighth day, we hated as she is violated._

A final cry rang from the broodmother and its head drooped in defeat. All of its tentacles fell back into their holes, and the last lingering genlock fell. With the gaping wound in her side, she limped over to the deceased body. Her worried companions began questioning her, mostly about her wound. Did nobody else think about what she could be feeling? No answer came out of her. She had blocked their voices out.

_Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin._

What if she had been sentenced to the Deep Roads and had no chance of survival? What if she'd eaten other dwarven prisoners who wandered around the Deep Roads and grew into this wretched monster? What if _this _was her? Questions stopped flowing in, and it finally sunk in.

_Now she does feast, as she's become the beast._

By the Stone... it could have been her.

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**I think that human females can produce hurlocks, dwarves make genlocks, quanari produce ogres, and elves make the shrieks. So, I think just about any female Warden would feel something when they come face to face with it. And I don't really know if men mutate into darkspawn or not if they're dragged down. Sorry if I'm wrong in the story.**

** Nobody questions you about how are feeling after the battle with the Broodmother... That would be something.**

**Erm... did that story really even flow well? I'm still a beginner. Reviews welcomed.  
**


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